Page 76 of On Thin Ice

Something flickered in his eyes. A spark of … if not quite forgiveness, something adjacent to it. But that softness was quickly replaced by a hard glint, his expression turning mean.

Goosebumps bloomed on my skin. From fear or anticipation, I couldn’t say.

“Words are easy, Ethan,” he said, slowly sitting up. “I’m gonna need you to prove it.”

I nodded, wiping roughly at my face. “Anything. I’ll doanything.”

His eyes darkened, and he moved to the edge of the bed so he towered over me. “You made me feel worthless tonight,” he said quietly. “Like I was nothing to you."

“You’reeverythingto me,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Everything.”

Bell’s hand shot out, gripping my chin hard enough to make me wince. He tilted my face up, studying me with an intensity that made my pulse skyrocket.

“Take off your fucking clothes,” he ordered, his voice low and menacing.

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think to question him. I rose just enough to strip my shirt over my head, then pushed my sweats down and kicked them away. I knelt before him again, completely nude and vulnerable in a way that went beyond my lack of clothing.

He looked at me for a long, excruciating moment, his eyes traveling slowly over my body. “Get on the bed,” he said finally. “On your back.”

I climbed onto the mattress, my heart hammering against my ribs as he stood and pulled his shirt off. The hard planes of his chest and abs were tight with tension, his body coiled like he was about to strike.

When he pushed his shorts down, his cock sprang free, already hard and flushed. My mouth went dry at the sight.

He followed me onto the bed but stayed just out of reach, his expression unreadable.

“Tell me what you thought about while you were in the shower.”

“You,” I admitted without hesitation. “How I fucked everything up with you. How I’d do anything to fix it.”

He moved closer then, straddling my thighs.

“And if I told you I was done with you?” he asked, each word deliberately cruel. “If I said this was it?”

The panic that gripped me was immediate and visceral. “I’d beg you to stay,” I whispered. “I’d get down on my fucking knees and beg until you believed me. I’d do whatever it took to prove to you that I’m worth taking a chance on.”

His eyes flashed with something almost primal then, and he finally leaned down and kissed me. But it wasn’t the type of soft, lingering kisses we often shared. This was pure dominance, teeth scraping against my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, his tongue pushing into my mouth without asking for permission.

I surrendered completely, letting him take whatever he needed.

When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged. “I’m still fucking furious with you,” he growled. “You made me go to places in my head tonight I vowed never to go again.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice hard with determination. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded, throat too tight to speak.

“Say it, Ethan.”

“I’m yours,” I managed, the words sounding like a vow I’d been afraid to make until now.

His eyes softened just a fraction before he reached for the lube in the nightstand drawer. But instead of prepping me as I expected him to, he pressed the bottle into my hand.

“Show me,” he ordered. “Show me how much you want my cock. How much you need me.”

Understanding flooded through me, hot and dizzying. With shaking hands, I uncapped the bottle and slicked my fingers. Bell moved back, giving me room to reach between my legs, my shoulder twinging with discomfort.

I held his gaze as I pushed the first finger inside myself, refusing to look away even as heat flooded my face. Letting him see me like this—vulnerable, wanting, desperate—was its own kind of penance.

---